


Dear Hunting

by apostapal



Series: Dearest Hunters [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Brainwashing, Canon-Typical Violence, Elaborate Headcanons, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Fall of Overwatch, Psychological Torture, Reunions, Suicide Attempt, better late than never, mild body horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 22:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9848261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apostapal/pseuds/apostapal
Summary: When Jack goes hunting for Reaper he's not sure what to expect. Ana told him the person behind the mask was Gabriel. But how, after everything, had they made him intothat? And could it be fixed?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is not planned to be super long (4-5 chapters max) but I have been toying with a few of the concepts behind this for weeks and just... had to get rid of them I guess.

([X](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PiYUjEoSGxU))

  


* * *

  


It wasn't that he didn't trust Ana. It wasn't that he didn't know that voice—warped or not. It wasn't that Jack _doubted_ , exactly, what Reaper was. _Who_ Reaper was. It was about something more than that.

This was about looking at the facts he had to face in Egypt and, like he was apt to do, stubbornly resisting. Because in the end, his own stubbornness was all Jack Morrison had left in this world.

So he went looking again. Found him in a dark corner of a forgotten town and watched. Clawed at the false hope it wasn't Gabriel Reyes under the mask.

But he moved like him. Even that damn limp; the one that only kicked up when he was tired. The one that came from getting his knee knocked out from under him during training. The one Jack used his advantage more than he was proud to admit when they sparred.

He watched the wraith half-limp back from a dead drop one evening and it was too much.

_”This shit'll be bad when I get old. Won't be able to walk properly by the time I'm fucking 60.”_

_Jack laughed and held out an arm, braced Gabriel against his side as they made their way down the hall. “Don't worry,” he said, “I'll carry you around when you need it.”_

Ancient past and an impossible future reared their heads at the same time in that moment. Jack willed it away with a shake of his head.

Maybe it was nostalgia that made him sloppy. Or maybe it was something else entirely. Maybe he was just getting too old for stealth missions. It was hard to say how or why but, eventually, everyone's clock comes up zero. And just like that, following Reaper eventually wasn't possible to do in secret any longer.

“Jack.”

He froze, gut swirling at the sound of that voice, and stared down the alley in front of him. Too far and crowded to make a proper run for it. Hesitantly, he turned to face the wraith.

“Gabriel.”

Reaper let out a low hiss, as if the name itself was physically painful.

It was just a shame their meeting this time had company. Gangs never could mind their own damn business.

One moment they were on the boarder of a civil conversation—maybe even about to exchange pleasantries about the weather before they tried to kill each other—and the next there was a sharp metal 'thump' as a grenade landed between them. Jack jerked his head to the side, just in time to watch the assailant dart past, and looked back to Reaper just as the wraith lunged for him.

It was hard to tell what the motive behind this was because either way they both ended up blown into the alley wall behind Jack, cracking ribs and popping joints the whole way. For a long moment Jack just laid still listening to the ringing in his ears and trying to breath, but a sound from Reaper distracted him.

“You're not real.”

Jack rolled onto his side, heaving, and stared at him. Reaper stared back, eyes narrowed behind the mask, and said nothing. He'd taken a harder hit from the explosive, dark liquid seeping from the rips in his coat. Jack fought the urge to reach out and help him, his own chest burning.

“What did you say?”

“ _You're. Not. Real._ ” the wraith croaked. He dug his claws into the dirt between them and pushed, trying to force himself to a crawling position. “Jack Morrison is dead.”

It felt almost surreal to hear. All this time, all that Gabriel was that Reaper wasn't, and the first one of them to accuse the other of being a pretender was... him.

“So is Gabriel Reyes.”

“No! I lived!” Reaper hissed, clawing the ground to brace up on his arms. “I lived. He died.”

He leaned in, too close to the soldier's face, and stared at him for a long moment. The other man didn't move, barely breathed, and tried to read the look in those dark eyes.

“Jack Morrison died. They told me he did. You're a fake.”

Reaper reached out and took hold of his face roughly, jerking it to one side. The soldier barely had it in him to resist the motion at all.

“You're just a puppet. Made to fool me. But it won't work. It won't...”

The wraith slumped forward, his other arm giving out at the elbow, and hissed loudly. Jack leaned back, free of his grip, and watched Reaper struggle to crawl again. Unsuccessful, he pressed his face into the dirt and stared up at him. The look was something somehow worse than vicious.

“He's dead. I didn't get to him in time. You're just a lie.”

Reaper coughed, smoke billowing out from under his mask, and shifted slightly. He reached out with the hand not tucked under him, grabbing for the soldier's face again, but when he found Jack's face this time it was something weaker--softer.

“You're the worst thing those bastards could do to me. You're all I wanted.”

Jack watched, stunned, as the other man's eyes flickered shut and his hand slipped from his cheek. He wheezed, finally hefting himself into a sitting position, and pulled his visor off. He rubbed shaking hands over his face and tried to breathe properly.

_You're the worst thing those bastards could do to me._

Reaper didn't know he was real. Gabriel Reyes thought he was dead. He thought this old soldier he was chasing was a puppet—some terrible trick to get to him back in the hands of the person who turned on them in the first place.

_Shit._

He glanced down at the other man, breathing heavily but slowly on the ground next to him. Chewed his lower lip. Weighed his options.

They'd brainwashed Amélie. They'd taken everything she knew and turned it inside out. She was barely the same person anymore.

What had they done to Gabriel Reyes to make him Reaper?

Filling Reaper with enough painkillers and sleep aids to knock out a horse wasn't exactly wise, no, but it was about all he had without Ana's help. So Jack did what he had to; paced footsteps back to the safe house he'd seen the wraith come and go from the last few days and hauled the half-corpse of Gabriel Reyes inside.

He didn't know, exactly, what he intended to do when he got there. But it definitely wasn't what actually happened.

When he got inside, punching in the code he'd caught Reaper use a few times, he was met with the sound of... singing?

It took a full five seconds to realize someone else was there. And a few more to respond, dropping Reaper unceremoniously on the couch nearby and grabbing for his rifle. He pulled the door closed behind him and tiptoed towards the noise.

The next room over, alight with computer screens, turned out to be the source. He rounded the corner and spotted a woman at a desk, back to him, typing away at some program.

“Sombra.”

She went silent and froze mid keystroke. Jack watched as e slowly repeated across the screen for a moment before she raised her hands next to her head and spun her chair to face him.

“Where's Gabriel?”

No _'what are you doing here?'_ or _'how did you get in?'_ or even _'holy fucking shit!'_ Jack blinked at her, lowering his gun slightly, and jerked his head over his shoulder. Sombra exhaled visibly, craning her head to see Reaper's form behind him, and met his gaze again.

“You look like shit, Morrison.”

“I've had better days.” he said simply. He took a step toward her, gun still raised, and held out a hand. “But I think it just got better with you here.”

Sombra looked between his hand and face, frowning, and slowly lowered one of her hands to take his. Jack shook it roughly before pulling back and fully lowering his rifle.

“You're going to help me fix Gabe. Aren't you, Hacker Goddess?”

“I can't.”

The reply was too quick, too sharp. Jack shifted slightly, raising his gun.

“I'm not giving you an option.” he said slowly.

“I can't.” she repeated.

“You will.”

Sombra sighed. Raked a hand through her hair and looked at him a long moment. Unafraid but still nervous.

“Fine.”

“Fine?” Jack repeated, lowering his gun to his side again.

The woman waved him towards her screen, free hand typing a code into her computer. She pulled up a video player as he got closer, expanding the window by pulling it with her hands until it took up most of the projection.

“You have to see this first.” she said simply, “Before we can get anywhere.”

The feed started dark, then a blinding light kicked on. Jack's breath caught in his throat when a face came into view in that moment; Gabriel Reyes. Bloody and bruised face, eyes squeezed shut against the blinding light, but somehow still... him. Just like he remembered.

“Wake up, Mr. Reyes.” An unrecognizable voice, deep and unaccented.

A hand reached out and took hold of Gabe's face roughly, blue gloved fingers digging into his chin and shaking his head violently. He coughed, eyes opening, and something black plumed up from his mouth. Jack cringed as he realized it was the same smoke that filtered out from under Reaper's mask occasionally.

“Do you feel like cooperating now?”

Gabriel stared into the camera, eyes full of malice, and opened his mouth. Cringed. Closed it. Coughed and then opened it again.

“Fuck. You.”

The unknown voice sighed. “I thought you'd stay that.” The gloved hand released Gabriel's face and patted sharply at his cheek before retreating. “Eventually, you'll get bored enough to chat.”

The feed jerked, scene changing suddenly, and this time when Gabriel came into view he was behind a thick glass panel. He let out a choked noise, hands smacking against the glass, and the person holding the camera let out a sharp sigh.

“What are you doing, Mr. Reyes?”

“I want Jack.” The way Gabriel said it was like a stab in the gut. A broken wail left Gabriel's mouth, forehead pressed against the glass.

“Jack Morrison is dead.”

Matter-o-fact. Simple. Not at all considering the anguish Gabe was going through.

“I know.” he said, tears rolling freely down his face. “I know. I want to go there too.”

The voice scoffed—actually _scoffed_ at that. “You should be so lucky. Now, unless you quiet down we're shutting off the lights again.”

Gabriel stilled a moment. Visibly tried to calm himself. But it apparently wasn't enough and the feed went dark with a loud pop. A few seconds of panicked breathing followed before the video changed and Jack felt something burning in the back of his throat.

The next scene opened with Gabriel sitting across a table from the camera. This time he seemed more alert but still dazed, bags dark under his eyes. Sombra stiffened in her chair next to him and shifted, turning away.

“I don't like watching any of these but...” She tapered off, averting her eyes as the blue gloved hand appeared on the screen and set a pistol on the table between it and Gabriel.

“One bullet, Mr. Reyes. Make it count.”

Jack watched, not wanting to believe where things were going, as Gabriel reached out hesitantly and picked up the gun. There was a marked pause, Gabe looking over the weapon, then he brought it up under his chin and fired.

Sombra jumped in her seat, one hand gripping her mouth and still refusing to look, and Jack watched in abject horror as the space around Gabriel's face filled with black smoke. Then, suddenly, he let out a loud wheezing noise and his face, somehow undamaged, shifted forward through the smoke as he grabbed the table. Coughing shook his body as Gabriel held on uselessly to the table and smoke slowly billowed up from his face.

The camera man sighed and mumbled a soft “That's what I thought you'd do.” before the feed cut again.

Sombra reached out then, pausing the video, and looked up at him.

“This is the last one.” she said, “But I just... look, I get that you think I can help because he's made of tiny robots or some shit now. This wasn't a mechanical job, though—pure organic, free-range brainwashing. They tortured him, old man. These videos are just something I found called 'highlight reel', they're not the only ones. And... well, you'll see.”

She leaned forward, starting the feed again, and the scene opened with Gabriel sitting at a table again. This time, the gloved hand reached out and set down a file in front of him. He hesitated a moment, then reached out and slid it closer.

“Open it.” the voice said. Gabriel obeyed, flipping it open. Jack's stomach dropped as he recognized the photos in it—himself. The jacket, visor, even a few of his actual face; someone had been busy.

“This man is an Overwatch operative,” the voice explained, “a man they intend to use as a replacement for Strike Commander Morrison. As you can see, the likeness is uncanny.”

Gabriel nodded and reached out a shaking hand to touch one of the photos.

“He must be eliminated. Along with everyone else involved in the destruction of the base we located you in. You understand?”

Gabriel nodded again, gaze still lingering on the photos in the folder. The gloved hand reached out and pulled the file away from him.

“Good.” the voice said smoothly, “Go suit up, Reaper.”

Gabriel looked up, eyes blank and dark, and the feed ended.

Sombra sighed as Jack finally pulled his gaze from the screen.

“As you can see, Jackie-boy,” she drawled, waving one hand in the air lazily, “this was a very well done job. They knew what they were doing. They planned. And they knew about _you_.”

Jack swallowed thickly.

“I still need your help. To, uh, contain him.” he cast a nervous glance over his shoulder at the form on the couch, still limp. “You're _going_ to help me.”

Sombra stared up at him, brows furrowed in defiance, and said, “I'm telling him you threatened to kill me. We clear? I'm not willingly helping you, asshole. Last thing I need is him pissed at me again—just got off his bad side.”

Jack nodded. Something about the way she spoke about him made Reaper sound almost... almost like he was still Gabe. Holding a grudge like a cat and sulking for days after the slightest misdeed. He pushed down the feeling and gestured at Sombra non-threateningly with his rifle.

“Yep, totally against your will. Now go set up a damn force-field or something.”

And, for all her insistence to the contrary, Sombra went about proving herself rather cooperative. Five minutes and she'd rigged a small force-field around the couch. That done, she pulled her chair over to sit across from Gabriel and watch him. Jack watched her the whole time, leaning on the doorway between that room and her computer station.

“How many painkillers did you give him, anyway?”

“A lot.”

Sombra stifled a small laugh, shaking her head.

“Ah well,” she said, leaning back in her chair, “he probably needs the rest, right?”

Jack, watching the slow rise and fall of Gabriel's chest, found it easy to agree with that.


	2. Chapter 2

_It was the same dream. Gabriel had had it enough times to more or less know it by heart. But he let it happen, didn't fight, because it was one of the last few comforts he had anymore. One of the only constants he'd known for years._

_He was laying on his back, sprawled on the floor of their apartment with Jack's head pillowed on his stomach. A rare moment of quiet—respite from the world around them. He looked down, catching the grays in Jack's hair, and ran his finger over the shell of the other man's ear. Jack shifted, cracked an eye open and grinned at him._

_"You've got another gray.” he drawled, reaching out to tug at Gabriel's beard._

_Gabriel feigned protest, pulling away, but chuckled all the same. “One to talk about grays.” Jack, for his credit, hummed softly in agreement._

_"We're too old for this shit, Gabe.”_

_They were. But Commander was a heavy title and both of them were saddled with it into the foreseeable future. Gabriel might eventually weasel his way out on medical reasons; his knee had aged far worse than his facial hair had. But Jack seemed doomed to be Strike Commander till he broke a hip._

_"Just a few more years. I've got a few options for replacement.” Jack promised, rolling onto his stomach and resting his chin on Gabriel's chest._

_"Oh?”_

_Gabriel reached out and ran his fingers through Jack's hair slowly, eyes half-lidded as he waited for the other man to go on. He'd heard the talk a few times before the dreams started. It never got old, at least._

_"Mm. Few more years and I take early retirement. Buy you a beach house and we get a dog and some foster kids.”_

_There was always a sparkle in Jack's eye when he went into these ideas. Always that spark that seemed so distant when he was Strike Commander Morrison._

_"Thought you wanted to be back on a farm.”_

_Gabriel smiled and tugged at Jack's hair lightly. The other man responded by raising up on his hands and leaning forward, looming over him._

_"I can buy two houses if I want, I'll make enough.” Jack said, grinning down at him. “But beach is first. I have to get you a proper wedding gift.”_

_Gabriel laughed. “When did a wedding come into this?” he asked._

_Jack shrugged, cocked his head to the side lazily and ducked in for a kiss. A distraction. But not good enough as far as Gabriel was concerned._

_“So,” he pressed out when they broke for air, even as Jack dipped down to nuzzle his face against his neck, “do go on about the wedding plans.”_

_“ **Gabe.** ”_

_Outright pleading. Jack Morrison never did handle emotional moments well, even after all this time._

_“Just wanted to know if this was you asking.” Gabriel hummed, tilting his head to the side as Jack pressed his lips to the side of his neck. He felt Jack laugh._

_"Is this you saying yes, if I am?” he asked softly._

_"Well,” Gabriel replied, “it's not me saying **no**.”_

The dream ended abruptly and Reaper sat up, shook his head, and looked around. Safe house, old couch, and a nasty case of cotton mouth. No old ghosts haunting him this time. He coughed, shifted, and got to his feet.

“Heeey, morning big guy...”

He shifted his gaze toward the noise. Sombra, reclining in her chair, stared up at him a few feet away.

“What happened?”

“Uuuh—”

Reaper took a step toward her and— _thunk_! Reeling back, he placed his hands on the barely-visible screen around him.

“Sombra! Let me out!”

“Mm, sorry. No can do.” she drawled, gathering herself up in her chair.

“Why?!”

“Strike Commander Morrison says no.”

Reaper let out a noise only describable as a _snarl_ and slammed his fist into the force-field. Sombra watched the barrier flicker but remain steadfast, squinting slightly.

“Motherfucker thinks he can boss my team around?!” Reaper slammed his other fist into the force-field and hunched up against it, coughing smoke. “It's not even Jack, Sombra!”

Sombra just waved a hand in the air lazily. “Eh, yeah. Well, I just tend to call people who point guns at me whatever they want to be called.”

“If you let me out you won't get shot.”

“Debatable.”

Sombra got up, spinning her chair lazily with her, and wandered over to peek in the other room. Gabriel watched, fighting to even out his breathing, and pressed his face against the force-field.

“Are you just going to keep me in here?”

She paused, lingering in the doorway, and motioned to someone in the other room. Gabriel knew well enough to expect the _ghost_ that wandered in past her.

“Not forever.”

The sound of that voice was haunting. How they'd gotten so close was... strange. But he pushed down the notion—fought off the heartache that came with seeing the image of Jack Morrison in front of him. Instead, Reaper fought to dig his talons into the smooth surface of the barrier.

“Go to hell.”

Jack looked like he almost wanted to laugh.

“You don't want to at least talk first? We had a good conversation the other night.” he moved past Sombra, turning her chair and sitting in it across from Reaper, “Found out I'm not real. That's a new development.”

_It's not him. It's not him. It's just a trick._

But he moved like Jack and talked like Jack and— _God_ , he looked like Jack with his visor traded out for glasses. Reaper winced and slid down to a crouch in front of the barrier.

“There's nothing to talk about.” Reaper said, coughing roughly at the end. He reached up and pressed a hand to his throat.

A flicker of softness moved across Jack's face. Sympathy? Or pity?

“You alright?”

Sombra moved over to stand next to the chair then, cup of water in her hand. “I mean, usually he coughs like someone whose smoked since they were 12.” she remarked, passing the cup through the force-field in a fluid motion and leaving it next to Gabriel's foot. “But that won't hurt.”

Reaper looked at her a long moment before reaching down and plucking the cup off the floor. He tilted his head forward, raised his mask very slightly, and drank it slowly but gratefully. Finished, he flipped his mask back into place in a fluid motion and looked back at the soldier in front of him.

“Do you ever take that off?”

“No.”

Jack shifted in place. Seemed to debate what to say next. It was strange—even his body language was so close. So perfected. How long had they been planning to replace him?

“Look, I... I saw what they did. I'm so sorry, Gabe.” The look on his face, the pain in his voice... Reaper averted his gaze to the empty glass in his hand instead. “I should have been there. I... I didn't know.”

_”I want Jack.”_

_“Jack Morrison is dead.”_

_It burns. It doesn't just hurt or sting. It's like fire in his chest, white-hot searing._

_“Then just let me die too. Please.”_

_But they didn't. They wouldn't. So he persisted._

“Why are you doing this to me?”

The words came out more broken than he wanted. But it was all he had left, really. His head hurt too badly to push down the emotion any longer.

“Because, dear, I found you. And I'm not losing you again.”

Reaper cringed and the glass shattered in his hand, shards littering the floor. Jack watched, tight lipped, as he got to his feet and moved back over to the couch. Plopped back down, rolled onto his side facing away, and tucked in against the ratty looking pillows.

“Fuck off.”

Behind Jack, Sombra sighed. “Told you it wouldn't work.”

  


* * *

  


After Gabriel refused to move for a full hour, back still to Jack, Sombra leaned over and prodded at the side of his head lightly. The solider jerked, spooked, and shot her a glare.

“While all this is good fun, I'm starving. And last I heard Overwatch stayed pretty ethical with their hostage situations. So how about you walk me around the corner to the bakery?”

Jack made a face. Went to say _'I'm not answering to Overwatch right now or Strike Commander anymore.'_ but decided it wasn't worth the trouble with this one.

“Hey, big guy'll probably be more interested in talking if you give him a concha.” she pressed with a little grin.

Reaper didn't move, back still to the two of them, and she added, “Or, wait, he's more of a churros man, right?”

Jack shot her a dull look over the top of his glasses and hauled himself out of his chair. Delighted, Sombra scrambled to check the shield projector and bid Gabriel farewell (which went still largely ignored) before falling into step behind Jack as he stepped out the door.

“You're not letting him go, are you?” he asked as they secured the door. He glanced over his shoulder and Sombra made a face.

“I've been doing some data mining while you were staring at him.” she explained smoothly as they started down the street, “I'm invested now.”

Jack still wasn't entirely certain he could trust her—in fact he was more certain he couldn't—but when they stepped back inside the safe-house with two bags of pastries the force-field was still in place. And Gabriel, though he had moved, was still behind it.

He looked a bit like a gargoyle now; perched on the back of the couch with his knees pulled up uncomfortably under his chin. He didn't move when they entered but his eyes followed as Sombra plopped their food on the small kitchenette counter and went digging. Silently, Gabriel moved over to the edge of the barrier as Sombra pulled out a smaller sack and stepped over to him.

“I got you empanadas, old man.” she said, holding the bag through the barrier. “One's strawberry and one's pork.”

Gabriel took them, peeked into the bag, then looked back up at Sombra silently.

“I know you're still mad at me. But they were out of churros.”

The wraith made a little 'hmm' noise and returned to his perch with his food. He made short work of it, still refusing to remove his mask, and spent the whole time watching Jack as he took a seat back across from him and halfheartedly chewed on one of the pastries Sombra had grabbed.

Speaking of; once Sombra finished digging through the bags she returned to her computer room silently. Jack, still distrustful, eventually gave up on getting anything out of Reaper and wandered into the other room to see what she was doing. Rather than looking at all suspicious when he entered, she seemed to almost perk up when she realized he was there.

“Hey, look at this.” she waved him closer, eyes still on her screen as she hunched over her keyboard. “I think my data mining finally paid off.”

Jack wandered closer, eyeing the screen as 'Project Reaper: Introduction' displayed in bold letters. Sombra glanced over her shoulder towards where Gabriel was, adjusted the volume, and pressed play.

The screen didn't change but a voice—the same from the tapes of Gabriel, Jack realized with a sinking feeling—began speaking over it in a calm tone.

“Good evening, gentlemen. I am here to offer up a unique opportunity; a chance to test The Reaper healing factor on an enhanced host as well as build a unique relationship with said carrier.”

The screen shifted, showing photos and file information on Gabriel. Sombra let out a low whistle, leaning back on her heels.

“There are some concerns with the project so far, namely that it would appear Jack Morrison has survived and could cause some conflict of interest in our subject. This proposal is here to reassure anyone who is unsure of our next actions.” the voice went on, “The plan is simple; inform Mr. Reyes that the former Strike Commander has been replaced. With enough persuasion he will be made to believe it—then lead to hunt Morrison.”

The screen changed, displaying the photos of Jack they'd shown Gabriel in the previous videos.

“Once he has been eliminated, we will inform Reyes of the 'mistake'. And saddle blame upon an informant, cementing his lack of trust in anyone but ourselves.”

Sombra coughed and shifted on her feet. Jack glanced over and found her visibly paled and staring up at the screen.

“I will break him. And I will remake him into what we need.”

The feed ended and Sombra reached over, closing the file. Still looking like she'd seen a ghost. Jack turned to her.

“Well,” she said softly, “that explains why they're so willing to pay me so much.”

Jack blinked, pieces clicking together. “You're the informant?”

“Who else does Talon get their information from anymore?” she shot back sharply, glancing over her shoulder towards Gabriel again. “We have to show him.”

“You think it'll work?”

Sombra looked back at him and shrugged helplessly.

“No clue. But it certainly beats keeping him locked in a hamster ball feeding him pastries, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fingers crossed the subtle perspective change in the middle there wasn't too confusing, hmm.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags added. Let's see if I can keep up this update speed or I end up floundering as my 7 day stretch of work continues.

Jack left Sombra to the reveal. Something about the idea of being present for it felt it removed credibility to Gabriel on some level. Instead, he sat at Sombra's desk and listened.

At first, only silence followed. A gut-rending silence that made him worry that Reaper had returned to his couch sulking and now distrusted Sombra as well. But then came her voice, small and hesitant.

“Morrison.”

Jack stepped into the other room and took in the scene. Sombra poised in front of the barrier looking helpless. And Gabriel bunched up against it, smoke floating off his shoulders and chest heaving. He did a double take, catching wet droplets sliding off the bottom of the Reaper mask.

“Oh, Gabe...”

He took a step closer, arm reaching out instinctively, and Gabriel responded by patting numbly at the barrier in front of him. He heaved again, sucking in as much air as he could manage, and tried in vain to dig the claws of his gloves into the surface.

“Jack?”

It sounded like a plea.

“Yeah.” he said, moving over to crouch in front of Gabriel. “It's me.”

Gabriel choked back another sob, cocked his arm back, and punched roughly at the force-field. “Let. Me. OUT!” No venom, just desperation. Jack leaned back, knees screaming at him for the position, and motioned to Sombra.

“You heard him.”

The second the barrier was down Jack got a full body slam into the floor, Gabriel grabbing for him and coiling around him. All sharp points and hard leather pinning him down, claws digging holes in his undershirt and mask jammed against the crook of his neck with enough force to bruise. Thick smoke floated off Gabriel's back when he reached and planted it between his shoulder-blades.

“Hi there.” he said softly, resting his chin on Gabriel's shoulder. The other man let out a noise too broken to pass off as a laugh.

“I could have killed you.” Gabriel said slowly, voice muffled somewhere between the mask and Jack. “Oh god, oh god. I tried to kill you.”

“It's okay, it's—“

“No!” Gabriel shook him, voice crackling, “I was going to kill you!”

Jack felt his breathing pick up, short and gasping, and shifted until he could hook his arms under Gabriel's arms. With minimal effort he managed to push until he'd shifted them both onto their sides and pressed his face up against Reaper's mask. The other man stared at him, eyes wide and wet, and fought for air.

Panic. The crushing weight of realizing he'd fully intended to kill Jack was a little too much to process—for good reason, Jack supposed. He reached out and gently took hold of the side of Gabriel's mask.

“Can I—?”

“Please don't.”

Jack dropped his hand to run over the curve of Gabriel's neck instead without a second's protest. Smoothed it down over his shoulder and around to press in the center of his back again.

“Breathe.”

Absently, Jack saw Sombra sit down on the floor behind Gabriel with her legs folded up under her. He kept most of his attention on the wide eyes staring at him behind the mask instead. Demonstrated a breath; inhale slowly, hold, exhale slowly. He did it again and Gabriel went with him, chest pressing against his. It took two more times before he was breathing normally again. Or, at least as normally as Jack had heard before.

The three of them stayed in silence for a moment. Just Gabriel staring at him like Jack was the Heavens themselves; awed and terrified and elated all at once. Then, Sombra spoke.

“So... now what?”

Jack moved, tucking Gabriel's head under his chin and pressing him in close enough to jam the hard points on his armor into his chest. He looked at Sombra, fingers dug into the thick fabric of Gabriel's coat, and breathed deeply.

“I'm going to kill the bastards that did this with my bare hands.”

Sombra cocked her head at him. Grinned. “Good plan.”

This time, Gabriel actually managed to laugh. A low rumble in his chest, pressed in against Jack, that felt like coming home for the first time in forever.

After a moment, Jack's hip crushing into the floor became too much and he heaved Gabriel with him into a seated position. The other man didn't budge the whole way, masked face still pressed firmly against Jack's neck to the point he was slightly worried about whether or not Gabe could breathe. He only shifted to prop his legs differently, bad knee kicked out straight the second he could.

“I shot you...” he said slowly, realization dawning on him.

“Yeah.” Jack replied and reached around to pat the now-healed spot on his hip. “Yeah, you did. Dug shrapnel out of my ass cheek for days.”

Gabriel moved one of his hands over where Jack's was. Gave it a hesitant pat.

“Sorry.”

A lot of replies came to mind. _'It's okay'_ or _'Don't worry about it'_ or something similar. None of them fit, though. Instead, Jack shrugged gently—careful not to jostle Gabriel's head.

“You're still my favorite anyway.”

He felt the other man exhale, long and slow. The grip around his middle tightened slightly.

“God, it's really you. They told me you died. I mourned you for years.” Gabriel leaned back and took hold of Jack's face, points of his gloves splayed off to the side to avoid stabbing him. “You're supposed to be dead.”

Jack shrugged. “Never was good at doing what I was supposed to.” he reasoned.

Gabriel shook his head. “No, you don't—shit!” The last word was punctuated by the wraith jerking away suddenly, on his feet and across the room before Jack or Sombra could react. “Shit, shit, shit!” He was in the other room rifling through Sombra's desk in an instant, desperately muttering under his breath. The two of them traded looks before getting up and going after him.

“How long has it been since your last report in, Sombra?” Gabriel barked over his shoulder, that familiar commander tone coming out full force.

Sombra shrugged. “Yesterday.” she said, “Told em you got food poisoning.” Gabriel shoot a look over his shoulder, eyes narrow, and she shifted her weight nervously. “What?”

“How much do they know?”

“You have food poisoning and I downloaded the discography of the Beastie Boys the other day. I've been data mining for the past two days, Gabriel, I'm not an idiot. They've only seen what I wanted them to see.”

Gabriel paused, poised over the keyboard, and tightened up his shoulders. Jack, back in the doorway, could practically feel the anxiety building in him again.

“Did you send my report from the day before?” he asked, voice lowering slightly. Sombra thought a moment, then nodded.

“Yeah, I think I did. Right before white bread here pointed a rifle at me.” She thumbed over her shoulder at Jack. “Why?”

Gabriel turned on his heels, smoke flowing off his shoulders, and darted between them. Went tearing around the room, digging through discarded bags and paper stacks. Jack turned, watching him, and shifted as Sombra slipped past him.

“Hey, slow down big guy. What are you so worked up about?”

Finding what he was looking for, Gabriel turned and shook a file at her. Sombra stared up at him, still baffled, and frowned.

“I made the drop.” he hissed, shoving the papers at her. “I made the drop before I saw Jack and—and...”

He stopped short, heaving roughly to fight the apparent panic building in his chest, and shook his head. Sombra took the file from him, flipped it open, and froze.

“What?” Jack frowned, stepping towards them. “What did you give them?”

Sombra turned, raising the papers for him to see, and said, “You.”

Tracking signal, the paper said. Big, clear, bold. A list of numbers followed. Then his name in quotation marks below it. Jack shifted, remembering the way Reaper had dove after him in the seconds before the blast. The lack of obvious intent but now...

“You tagged me.” he said, voice barely a whisper. Gabriel nodded slowly, smoke pouring out from under his mask, and sank back against the counter behind him.

All three of them looked at Jack's coat, hanging by the door, and shot for it at the same time. Jack got there first, digging in the torn patch in the front where Reaper had grabbed him and hunting for the device. Finding it—tiny and unassuming in the interior fabric—he pressed it between his thumb and finger until it snapped.

“Would they have been watching?” he asked, turning to Gabriel and Sombra. Both nodded. “So, they probably saw me buying Sombra lunch.” Another nod. _Fuck._ “What do we do?”

Sombra and Gabriel traded glances, something passing between them, then looked at him. Gabriel reached out, palm up, and asked, “Can you trust me?”

Their unique relationship situation wasn't going to be fixed by a hug, no, but Jack didn't have much choice. He nodded slowly.

“You still get nervous in closed spaces?”

Jack nodded again, more hesitant. He reached out and took Gabriel's hand anyway.

“You're gonna hate this.”

When they were in SEP Gabriel liked to push his buttons in the worst fashion; teasing but with super soldiers. Once, he'd zip-tied Jack's hands behind his back and laughed until he realized Jack's ensuing panic was serious. Not the best way to find out how one feels about being trapped but, well, at least it was relevant information.

Useful now, especially, as Jack put his hands behind his back and fought to stay still as Sombra wrapped rope around his wrists.

“What if they don't even believe you? I bought three goddamn bags of pastries, Gabe. Let Sombra pick them all.”

Gabriel turned and after apparently catching the nervous look in Jack's eye gently took hold of his chin. Squeezed at his cheeks in a delicate way one wouldn't have thought achievable with his reputation. That version of Gabriel he'd felt was so far from Reaper just right there.

“Don't worry.” he said, “They can't kill me.”

It might have been the most morbid thing that had come out so easily reassuring. Jack relaxed, slumping forward slightly and letting Gabriel hold the weight of his head in his hands.

“I can't believe it's you.” Gabriel murmured, one claw trailing along the side of Jack's jaw.

“So,” Sombra spoke up, popping her head up over his left shoulder, “what's the plan, exactly?”

“We're transporting a prisoner.” Gabriel said, hand still holding Jack's chin gently.

“Wasn't the plan to kill him, though?” she asked.

“My choice.” Gabriel drawled and finally pulled his hand away.

Sombra shrugged and gave the ropes around Jack's wrists one last tightening tug before stepping around him. “It looks weird.” she said simply.

But Gabriel ignored her in favor of gathering up the few belongings they had in the safe house—most of which looked like bugging equipment. Jack watched, flexing his fingers the whole time, and tried to keep his focus anywhere else than his current situation.

“You really think this'll work, Gabe?”

The wraith paused and shrugged, back to him. He cracked at his neck, joints popping oddly loudly, and turned to face Jack.

“No idea.” he said, “But they're not getting you, I know that much.”

Sombra looked between them, brows cocked, and asked, “Were you two this intense before you got blown up or is it new?”

Gabriel shot her a look and, even behind the mask, Jack somehow knew it. The slight pull of his lip, brows pulled together, and eyes narrowed. Jesse had gotten it more times than he could count. And Sombra had a similar response, hands up in placation the moment it hit her.

“Hey, sorry, never mind.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Get your shit, Sombra.”

Jack watched her move into the other room, shoulders low, and chuckled faintly despite the gradual tightness in his chest. Gabriel looked down at him curiously.

“Bet you I have a meltdown even if we actually fool them.” Jack said, forcing another laugh.

“What are we betting?”

Jack shrugged, glad Gabriel was going along. All for his benefit, he supposed; a distraction. “If I'm right can I see you without the mask?” he asked.

Gabriel paused, tilting his head, then shrugged. “Alright,” he said, “not much of a prize, though.” There was a note of sadness in the words but Jack decided to leave it be for the time being.

“What do you want if you win?”

“Don't worry about it.” Gabriel replied. He moved to help Jack up as Sombra came into the room with a bag over one shoulder. “I've already gotten the only thing I ever wanted.”

Jack forced out a weak laugh. “Not much of a prize either.” he said. Gabriel shrugged.

“Value is relative, Jack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _come on, baby, calm me down_  
>  _you’re the only one who knows how_ ([x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oAq-By5s1ZM))


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _i've got to take what I'm making and turn it into something for you_  
>  _i've got to break what I'm making and turn it into nothing for you_  
>  ( _[god, my god, my god, where have you been?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BF_F5974B7I)_ )

The days leading up to the destruction of the Swiss HQ still felt like a blur. Jack could barely pull out his own actions from the metaphorical rubble, let alone anyone else's. He can't remember what he did or what he said up until waking up with his face on fire and all of his ribs broken, lungs filled with smoke.

When he found out Gabriel was dead, he stopped caring who did what. Because whatever argument they were having (which he's fairly certain they were) didn't matter when a piece of him was gone. He had nothing left. So he became nothing.

But being nothing didn't make things easier. So he tried to make himself something good. Something worth being alive when Gabriel wasn't. He just wasn't very good at doing much of anything, turns out.

 _Meat head_ Ana had called him once, knocking her knuckles against his skull. Smart but not wise. Brave but to the point of rushing in without regard. Kind but not always honest, not always able to process the things he was feeling.

Gabriel always had been the better solider of them. Gabriel had always been the better person too, as far as Jack was concerned.

As if on queue he felt a firm hand on his shoulder. It gave a gentle squeeze, claws cracking at the hard leather of his coat, and some how Jack found a way to feel comforted with his hands bound and an old pillowcase over his head.

“I wonder if this looked better in the days of having sacks handy.” Sombra, half laughing, remarked, “Because right now we just look like jackasses with our prisoner hooded with a floral pillowcase.”

Gabriel heaved a loud sigh next to him before stepping forward, hand leaving his shoulder.

“At least try to keep a straight face.” he drawled, sounding tired, and Jack listened as he moved to the other side of the room.

Where ever they were didn't matter. Jack hadn't been paying attention to the ride and half-way through Sombra had stuck this thing on his head. All he really knew was that his faith in the plan at large was starting to dwindle. And that the anxiety in his chest over having both his vision and his movement restricted was building to uncomfortable levels.

He listened as Sombra moved across the room behind him and sat down somewhere—the whole motion exaggerated to indicate dramatics. “Where are they? You'd think they'd put a step on it with us supposedly compromised.” she asked.

“I don't know.”

Jack twisted slightly in his chair, trying to find a better position and failing. He strained to follow the direction of their voices.

“Could you, like, check or something?”

“They get here when they get here. You're the one with tracking.”

Jack tried to push down the nerves. Think good things. Things that weren't being tied up by two people who were still, questionable alliances or not, members of Talon. One of them being a woman he knew little to nothing about.

At least he had Gabriel. His mind drifted, eyes shutting under the pillowcase, and he sighed. Ana refused to tell him what Gabe had looked like. They both knew his voice, changed as it was, and she'd seen something to confirm who he was without the shadow of doubt. But she hadn't wanted to talk about what he looked like. Something about it had deeply unsettled her.

He almost regretted not checking when Gabriel was asleep. But now it felt wrong; like he would have been violating some new barrier between them. Why was he so opposed to taking off that mask?

“When would your friends start looking for you, white bread?” Sombra pipped up, ripping him from his thoughts. Jack shrugged, adjusting his hands against the back of the chair.

“I don't work for anyone. I doubt they notice I'm missing until I don't answer a few mission invites.”

“Who's leading Overwatch now?” Gabriel, voice low, stepped closer to him again.

“Winston.”

A low chuckle. “Did they ask you back? When they found you?”

Jack shrugged. “No.” he said, “I'm glad. Needed that job like a bullet in the head.”

Another laugh. And a hand, gentle and quickly retreating, brushed across the back of his neck. Something about the gesture felt so warm.

“Isn't that what you two fought about? Y'know, before..?” Sombra asked behind them.

“I...” Jack frowned, “I don't really remember that.”

Gabriel made a low noise of agreement and it gave Jack some pause. He knew his own memory around the events leading up to the explosion were foggy. But he hadn't considered what kind of state Gabriel's mind was in after... whatever happened.

“So neither of you remembers anything?” Sombra asked.

Jack nodded. Gabriel shifted next to him, brushing against his arm, and said, “I'm questioning anything I _remember_ at this point.”

Sombra gave a little 'hum' and they lapsed briefly into silence.

That was right... Gabriel had been told so many things that were different. So many false truths and warped versions of reality. He'd been sent to kill Jack himself, under the promise he was honoring the 'real Jack Morrison'. There was so much to talk about. And so little time for it, apparently.

“This chair is putting my ass to sleep.”

Gabriel laughed. “Here, let me just—“ The pillowcase moved, leaving Jack's head, and he blinked hard. As his vision righted itself (as best it could sans glasses or visor) he stared up at the haunting Reaper mask without any apprehension for the first time in ages. Gabriel reached out, took his shoulders, and pulled Jack to his feet.

Jack stumbled, righted himself, and chuckled faintly as he tried to work the numbness out of his legs and backside—Gabriel keeping him stable. It was natural. Normal, almost. He was just about to mutter out thanks when the door flew open, dry wind hitting him in the face.

Sombra yelped and ducked behind the desk and Gabriel stole a glance over his shoulder before shifting into smoke in an instant, moving behind Jack and solidifying again with one hand firmly on his shoulder, the other reaching around to grasp his throat with only the ghost of a hold. All this in a moment. All this before Jack could even fully register who was standing in the doorway.

Ana Amari, gun raised, stared at him through her scope.

“Jack Morrison,” she barked, “you better have a damn good explanation for what the hell has been going on the past few days!”

Gabriel let out a low growl, claws digging into Jack's coat. “I thought you said no one would be looking for you.” he hissed.

“They shouldn't have been.” Jack whispered back sharply, “Guess I didn't account for someone already watching.”

Turning his attention to Ana, he forced out a weak smile. “Ana, please. You know I always have a good reason for things.” he said, “Please stop pointing the gun at Gabe.”

“ _Gabe_?” Ana asked, tone disbelieving even as she lowered her rifle. “We're back to using nicknames for it?”

Jack relaxed slightly and felt Gabriel do the same, the hand near his neck moving to hold his other shoulder instead. Ana stepped forward, pulling the door closed behind her, and dropped her rifle to her side.

“That's really Gabriel?” she pressed, stepping forward. Jack nodded. “Have you... seen him?” Jack shook his head. Ana took another step forward. “Is he safe?” Jack nodded again.

She was across the room in a flash, free hand outstretched towards Gabriel. He hesitated, looking more and more like he was actively hiding behind Jack rather than shielding himself, and finally sidestepped out to face her.

“You stubborn old son of a bitch.” she hissed, reaching out and grabbing for Gabriel's mask. He recoiled, backpedaling behind Jack, and swatted her away when she tried for it again. “Just show him, Gabriel!”

It bordered on comical, really. Fully grown adults fighting over a mask while Jack stood between them like a pathetic, slightly confused wall.

“Not the time, Ana!”

“He loves you, Gabriel, show him your damn face!”

Gabriel shrank further behind Jack then, tucked his face up against his back, and Ana stopped. She stood in front of Jack a moment, chest puffed out in anger, and finally deflated and planted a weak punch against his shoulder.

“You're both the stupidest men I know.”

Sombra popped up then, eyeing Ana warily, and said, “I hate to break up the old people reunion but we've got incoming Talon agents. Probably not the best time for this.”

Jack felt Gabriel sigh before he straightened up and moved to stand between himself and Ana. She stared up at him, challenging, and waited.

“You need to go.” he said slowly.

“You're not giving Jack to Talon?” she asked.

Gabriel's shoulders stiffened. “No.”

“I still want to talk to both of you.”

“I know.”

Ana sighed and propped herself against her rifle. “Where can we meet?” she asked.

Something buzzed from Sombra's direction and she scrambled over the desk. “No time!” she hissed. In response, Gabriel reached out and grabbed for Ana's arm, yanking her back behind Jack when she awkwardly took it.

“Hide.” He pushed her towards the broken desk Sombra had been behind. “You're still good at it, right?”

Jack took to the chair again, reluctant and full of nerves now, and Sombra pulled the pillowcase back over his head. He didn't hear, exactly, what happened next but he could assume Ana had taken up a hiding spot considering he didn't hear her anymore. Just Gabriel's heavy, half-limping footfalls going to stand in front of him.

He started slightly as Sombra moved to stand next to him, hand patting roughly at his shoulder. “Breathe normal, old man.” she hissed.

He didn't get to reply. Instead, he froze as he heard the door open again. Two sets of feet, guns cocked and ready, entered with the clatter of body armor. They stopped a few feet from where he could only assume Gabriel was standing.

“Sir.”

“Do you two need something?” Gabriel asked, voice going into a deeper growl than Jack had thought possible previously.

“We had intell reports that Morrison was... oh.” the agent tapered off, obviously catching site of Jack. “Our reports said he was... free.”

Gabriel scoffed. “Better have their eyes checked.”

“What are you... doing here?” the other agent asked.

This time, Sombra answered. “Standard interrogation.” she reached down and smacked at the back of Jack's head. Jack let out an annoyed grunt and shifted in his chair. Played it up as much as he could. Sombra laughed.

“You two need anything else?” Gabriel asked sharply.

“Nothing sir.” the first agent replied.

“We do have reports of Amari in the area.” the second one piped up. Jack felt Sombra shift next to him, sighing. “Be careful. She's nearly impossible to get a bead on.”

“I can handle myself.”

Both agents spoke in unison, “Yes sir!”

Gabriel moved for the door, obviously shooing them out, and Jack breathed a sigh of relief as the door slammed shut behind them. He heard Sombra exhale lightly too before she moved from his side.

“H-hey, let me out—“

Jack didn't get the rest out as the pillowcase was pulled off his head again. He blinked hard and watched Gabriel move past him. A moment later and his hands were cut loose and he was brought back into glorious freedom.

“You didn't panic.” Gabriel said as he stepped back in front of him. Jack forced a laugh.

“Not visibly.”

Ana moved into his line of sight now, popping at her back, and Sombra went darting off to pull the curtains back into place on one of the windows. Jack looked up at Gabriel, owlish mask staring back with unimaginably soft eyes.

“So, can we talk now?” Ana asked, frowning up at Gabriel. He nodded once but refused to pull his gaze from Jack's. She moved to speak again but Gabriel held a hand up, requesting a moment.

“First,” he said, “I suppose I should get this out of the way.” And he reached up, fingers twitching nervously, for the Reaper mask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much longer to go here. :0 Probably like 2-3 parts depending on how my epilogue idea pans out. Updated tags. 
> 
> Thanks for all your support so-far! It means a lot more than I can express properly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _my heart is glowing fluorescent, I want you to possess it_  
>  ( _[i am a nightmare and you are a miracle]()_ )

The thing about love is that it isn't blind. Love is honest. Love is accepting. And love is pretty damn set in its ways.

When Jack Morrison first met Gabriel Reyes he was struck with the thought that he'd never seen a more wonderful sight in his life. It helped, of course, that he was busy barfing in a trash can and Gabe came up with a smile and anti-nausea meds like a goddamn angel. But time and affection had him loving every inch of him. Eventual scars and gray hair included.

In the videos Gabriel had looked fairly normal. But something about the last one—the one where Gabe became 'Reaper'—had felt off. Just slightly. Just so.

So he was hard pressed to say whether or not what was under that mask surprised him.

Gabriel pulled the mask off in an agonizingly slow manner, hands fumbling to keep hold of it, and dropped his hood. The same face was there, really, but there were... problems. Deep holes, rapidly filling and emptying with whatever substance held him together, dotted places on his face and neck. He exhaled and thick smoke filtered out between his lips, new scars marring the flesh there. His beard had gone totally white, along with what little short clipped hair he kept on his head. But his eyes... still there, still soft and warm and _home_.

“Why are they, uh, doing that?” Sombra asked, leaning on the chair Jack had been sitting in.

Gabriel looked at her, lip pulling up in an indignant snarl, and grumbled, “I don't know. Apparently even tiny robots get confused if you give them enough shit to do.”

“Well,” Jack spoke finally, pulling Gabriel's attention back and getting rewarded with a look that bordered on pure fear, “it could be worse.” The look of fear melted away, replaced with something close to disgust.

“I look like a Google result for trypophobia, Jack.”

Behind him, Jack heard Sombra stifle a laugh. Ana shifted on her feet, went to say something and stopped short. So he stepped forward and put himself in Gabriel's space. The other man didn't move, though he shifted his gaze away the moment Jack tried to meet it.

He reached out, moving to cup Gabriel's cheek, but the other man caught his hand. “Don't.” he pleaded.

“Does it hurt?” Jack asked, flexing his fingers in the hold. Gabriel shook his head but still refused to look at him. “Hey,” he hummed, tilting his head to one side, “you got some more grays.”

That did it. Gabriel jerked his head back to face Jack, breath caught in his throat and looking ready to start sobbing on the spot. Instead, he laughed. Weakly at first but growing into a full roll when Jack joined. He grabbed Jack's shoulders and pulled him in, coiled around him like he had before. Slowly, hesitantly, Jack raised his hand and ran it over the back of Gabriel's head. The soft sigh he got in reply, cutting off their laughter, sounded like Gabriel had never know a better feeling in his life.

“It looks better than it did before...” Ana spoke up, sounding slightly surprised.

Gabriel shifted comfortably, unwound himself from around Jack and sidestepped to see her better. She looked up at him fondly.

“It gets worse when people are shooting and punching me.” Gabriel drawled, narrowing his eyes at her.

“ _I_ didn't punch you.”

“I shot him in the ass, I can forgive him.”

Ana laughed and stuck her arms out wide, beckoning Gabriel into a hug. He hunched down and wrapped his arms around her middle, chin resting on her shoulder, and Ana squeezed at him with all her might. Jack watched the whole show of it, smile tugging at his lips, and felt like things were finally _good_ for the first time in years.

“So,” Gabriel half-groaned as he stood up straight again, “what did you want to talk about, exactly?”

“Come back. With us.”

Jack watched his shoulders stiffen and his heart sank. He didn't even have to hear the next few words out of his mouth to know the answer.

“I can't.”

“Gabriel, you—“

“If we have any hope of finding out who did everything back then. Of who did this—” he motioned to his face, “to me. I have to stay. I have to use them.”

Sombra stepped in then, nodding, “Yeah, and they pay me. And I, being the wonderful friend I am,” Gabriel made a face at her but she simply pressed on, “can offer my hacking services to any information the big guy needs. It's way better this way.”

“What does that mean for me... seeing you again?”

Gabriel flinched slightly, turning to Jack, and what little resolve he had seemed to waver completely. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. But Jack Morrison didn't live through all of this to let Gabe slip through his fingers again.

Love is stubborn. He had a lot in common with it.

“You've seen how bad I do on my own.”

Gabriel turned and stepped closer to him, took his face in his hands and cradled it like the most valuable thing in the world. Soft, warm eyes fixed on his.

“I'll never be far, you know.” he said, voice soothing, “I'm hunting you, after all.”

Jack smiled. “You're a shitty hunter if you haven't caught me yet.”

“It's not hunting if there's no challenge to it.” Gabriel hummed, “You'll be a good sport about it, right? Otherwise it's no fun.”

“Going to be harder if I _want_ to be caught now.”

Gabriel laughed again and it sounded like music. Like coming home. Like warm sunshine and the smell before rain. Jack leaned against one of his palms and closed his eyes. Soaked as much of it in as he could.

“I taught you how to act. You can do it.”

Jack smiled and cracked an eye open to look at him. “I'll make you proud.” he said, “I promise.” 

  


* * *

  


The first contact afterwards was an encrypted message. It took 6 hours to crack and, in the end, all it said was _'Miss you.'_ After that, weeks of silence. It made Jack antsy. There was so much left unspoken. So many things to do.

To say he was excited to get a message with _'Meet me.'_ followed by an address and time was an understatement. It took all he had in his power to not give the whole thing away in his hurry. Besides, he had to be sure it wasn't a trap. Go in cautious, safe.

He got as far as putting the code in the locked safe-house before all his nerves were gone, replaced with unabashed joy.

“Gabe?”

“'m in here.”

Jack stepped into the other room and found Gabriel seated at a computer, leaning heavily on one elbow and typing lazily with his other hand. He glanced past the screen at him when he entered, cracking a faint smile. No mask, no gloves, just Gabe in a ratty looking hoodie. The sheer normality of the scene threw Jack off for a moment.

“You still want in on this whole revenge fest?” he asked, stretching in his seat as Jack crossed the room. Jack nodded. “Here.” Gabriel dug a file out from under his keyboard and tossed it onto the desk in front of Jack, “Sombra and I could use some help on this next one.”

Jack picked up the file and flipped it open. Leafing through it he found names, addresses, and an assortment of other tibits of information Sombra must have dug up on the situation. People who had worked with Overwatch and were subsequently unaccounted for—assumed dead and otherwise. Trying to get a bead on Talon higher ups. And, on the last page, something odd...

“You blood tested me?” he asked, squinting at the last page in the file.

“Oh, shit, that's not supposed to be in there.” Gabriel sat up and grabbed for the paper but Jack pulled it back, cocking a brow at him. Gabe ducked his head slightly. “I had to be sure.”

Jack chuckled and shoved the paper back in the file. “Well, are you?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Gabriel hummed, relaxing slightly. “You're blood sugar levels are a little higher than average, though.” Jack frowned at him. “Hey, the full work up was cheaper than just DNA, okay?”

Jack shook his head and let the subject drop at that. No sense in arguing—he was glad to allow whatever made Gabe more comfortable. “So, what do I need to do?” he asked.

“We need a doorman. Sombra and I do the dirty work but there's more security than we're comfortable handling. So that's where you come in. Ideally, you do nothing. Worst case, you bail one or both of us out if shit hits the fan.” Gabriel explained, fiddling with a pen on his desk. “You were always good at watching my 6 before so I figured...”

“I'm in.”

Gabriel looked up at him and smiled. And even with the odd smokey texturing job on his face it came out all too familiar. The faint crinkle around his eyes was worse now, yes, but that just added to the charm.

Jack leaned forward against the desk. “Is that all you called me out here for?” he asked.

Gabriel clicked his tongue, glancing back at his computer screen, and shrugged. “Basically. Unless you like staring at this ugly mug.” Jack made a face at his dismissal and he glanced back up at him. “What?”

“Five years, Gabe.”

“You wanna fuck the smoke monster man?” Gabriel laughed like it was a joke. Jack's frown deepened and he leaned back in his seat, brow raised. “Seriously?”

“I missed you.”

Gabriel reeled back at the words, looking wounded. Rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck and refused to make eye contact. Jack's heart ached at the whole situation; Gabe so close but so far and how certain of rejection he seemed at this point.

He reached across the desk and held his hand out, palm up, to the other man. Gabriel stared at it a moment before taking it. He allowed Jack to pull him to his feet and around the desk, still pointedly avoiding more than a stolen second of eye contact.

“I'm still getting used to you being real.” he said finally, reaching over to tap at the file Jack had gone through, “I also may or may not be interested in your dental records.”

Jack stifled a laugh and looped one arm around Gabriel's waist, the other moving to lace their fingers together. “Whatever you need. I got some new fillings, though” he hummed, resting his head against the other man's shoulder.

“I missed you too.” he added quickly, “I should... probably make that clear. Just because I'm still processing doesn't mean I didn't...”

“I know.”

Gabriel sighed and relaxed slightly, free hand resting on Jack's side. They stayed like that a moment, just close. Just warm and calm and near.

Jack broke the silence first. “Can I kiss you?”

Gabriel laughed faintly and said, “First time you ever asked me that, you punctuated with _bro_.”

“Some changes are good.” Jack hummed. He raised his head and finally managed to get Gabriel to meet his eyes. “You didn't answer my question.” Gabriel watched him a moment, thinking, then nodded.

It was slow at first, just soft exploration and affection. Gabriel was the one to deepen the kiss. Jack merely melted into it as he felt himself pulled in closer, the intoxicating heat of it enough to drive him mad in seconds. When they parted, panting, it was only a second before Gabe pressed back in again, nipping at his lower lip and digging his hands into his hair.

The second time they broke apart Gabriel leaned back and exhaled a cloud of thick smoke, eyes half-lidded as he stared at Jack. He moved his hands to cup Jack's face.

“God, I love you.” he mumbled.

Jack grinned back at him. “I love you too.” He leaned in and stole another kiss but broke it off before it got very far, leaving Gabriel leaning after him hungrily. “Mm, no,” he hummed, “we're taking it slow, right?”

“I am literally 5 seconds from asking you if you want to test how much weight that desk can support and you want to be a jackass?” Gabriel hissed, grabbing at the front of his shirt. Jack laughed and bumped his nose against Gabe's, earning a sour look. “It was _your_ idea, not mine.”

“So, you're not opposed now?”

Gabriel shrugged. “I really missed you.” he said.

Jack broke into a full grin and leaned forward, hooking his arms under Gabriel's thighs and pulling them out from under him and up level with his waist.

“And the hunter becomes the prey, huh?” he laughed as Gabriel pushed against his chest, leaning away, and groaned. “Sorry, sorry. That one was bad.”

“You're lucky I didn't pick you for your sense of humor..” Gabriel shot back indignantly. He kept the same posture, palm against Jack's chest, as the other man set him on the edge of the desk. Jack cringed at him, wounded, and Gabriel dug his fingers into his shirt front again, pulling him closer.

“You still going to want my dental records after this?”

Gabriel smirked at him and shrugged, leaning back and dragging Jack with him. “Depends,” he said, “I'll tell you when I decide.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two notes:  
> -Do not Google trypophobia if you don't know what it is. It is the fear of clusters of holes. Some people who know how to use Photoshop suck.  
> -Just 1 more part to go. Thanks to everyone for the support along the way. <3 Expect some bullshit fluff with these assholes out of me pretty soon after this ends (if not before).


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Hope was closing with my eyes,_   
>  _Down the shallow grave I was lying_   
>  _Then I heard someone say "He'll be stuck here forever"_   
>  _But I prayed it wasn't forever_   
>  _Cause you were leaning over me_   
>  _Clutching memories of when I was alive_   
>  _And then you breathed life into me one last time_   
>  _But I prayed it wasn't the last time_   
>  _Because it would be so wonderful to see your starry eyes again_
> 
> ([x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BzcESPQOk1E))

Sombra looped the footage again, knuckles pressed to her lips. Looking for something, anything.

_”Just listen to me Jack, please.”_

_”There's nothing left to talk about, Gabriel.”_

_Gabriel looked down at the floor, glaring hard, and squared his shoulders. When he looked back up at Jack his expression was different. Defiant but somehow still edged with desperation._

_”I'm not trying to imply that one of your people is—“_

_”You trust that boy too much, Gabe.” Jack went softer, shoulders slumping, “Just because McCree got cold feet and ran doesn't mean you have to believe his conspiracy theories.”_

_”Jesse's not like this!” Gabriel flinched, voice clearly having been louder than he intended. Jack frowned at him and he slumped, looking away. “He's not and you know it. Someone scared him off because he was getting into shit they didn't want.”_

_”Gabe... why are you so sure it's Overwatch and not one of you boys?”_

_”Because, I know my boys.”_

_Jack puffed his chest slightly at this. “And I know mine.”_

_”Not like I know mine.” There was a sharpness in his tone that seemed to startle Jack. Gabriel took a step toward him, hand outstretched, and Jack glared at it. “You know I'm right...”_

_Jack opened his mouth then closed it. Considered his words very carefully, the whole time glaring at Gabriel's hand. Then, slowly, he reached for it. There was the sound of laughter in his voice when he spoke. “I hate it when you're right.”_

Sombra cut the feed before the deafening blast that followed. Feeling ill, she rubbed her hands against her eyes. She could tell them. That they never really fought. Or that Gabriel should probably not have been so proud of being right.

When her comm buzzed, REAPER displayed on it in purple lettering, she sighed.

“What'd you find in the video?”

“Nothing.” Sombra said. She reached out and deleted the file. “It's useless, sorry big guy.”

Gabriel gave a little noise of annoyance but let it drop. His temperament had changed dramatically in the past few weeks. Softer, more patient. She was pretty sure she'd even caught him smiling once.

“Keep looking.” he said, “And Sombra...”

“What is it, big guy?”

“Thank you.”

Sombra swallowed hard, eyes on her now blank screen. “F-for what?” she asked, hoping he didn't catch the waver in her voice. If he did, he didn't mention it.

“You've been a big help.” he said simply, “I owe you.”

Sombra just laughed. “Yeah,” she said, smoothing out her mood, “You can say that again.”

If Gabriel and Jack were willing to let the past die with their faulty memories then she wouldn't force it on them. No point, no gain. No reason to give anyone else the thought she had over the whole exchange. The realization that they were inches from each other's hands when the bomb went off.

No, she'd carry that one alone. They had enough on their plates.  


* * *

  
The weeks leading up to the infiltration job were largely uneventful. Or as uneventful as life could be for Jack Morrison. He did a few day missions and slept, caught up on his reading. Simple things. Things that most certainly weren't playing poker with two wanted criminals and Ana Amari or spending three nights a week in a random safe house bed with Overwatch's least favorite mercenary asleep on his chest, snoring loudly.

Well, maybe things weren't exactly _normal_. But they certainly passed for far better than it at this point.

The evening before he was due out to meet Sombra and Gabriel, Athena pinged on his comm.

“Commander Morrison.”

It had been enough of a struggle to get the AI to drop 'Strike Commander'. He'd given up on removing all traces of his various titles from her vocabulary. He sighed.

“Yes Athena?”

“Have you been feeling well? Your behavior has been much more sporadic as of late. Should I schedule a visit with Dr. Ziegler? At your age you could be experiencing a number of mental or physical issues that would result in—“

“Athena.” Jack cut her off, “I'm fine. Really. No need to worry Angela or anyone else.”

“But Commander, I've noticed some anomalies in your daily scans.”

Jack paused in his packing, frowning. “What anomalies?” he asked.

“Nanite remnants.” the AI explained, “Have you been encountering Reaper more frequently? Or perhaps he's been watching you? Do be careful, Jack. You're behavior tied with these findings raises alarms about your health. You could be over-exerting yourself in your downtime and—“

Jack tried not to sound suspicious as he cut her off, thanking her for the concern, and finished his packing.  


* * *

  
When he made it in the door of the safe house Gabriel was waiting for him. Jack greeted him by stuffing his duffle at him playfully. “You gave me robo-lice.” he drawled when Gabe looked up from the bag with a frown.

“What?”

“Nanite remnants.” Jack explained, wrinkling his nose at Gabriel. The other man choked, trying not to laugh, and held Jack's bag to his chest. “Athena's been finding them on my scans, apparently. She didn't say so but if there's a concentration of them around my dick and someone can see those scans so help me, Gabriel—“

Gabe dissolved into laughter then, dropping Jack's bag and clutching a hand to his chest. Jack shot him a forced glare.

“You're an asshole.” he said but there was only fondness in his tone. Gabriel, still laughing, reached out and beckoned him closer and Jack didn't even hesitate going to him. “How could you not remember to recall them? They're a part of you.”

Gabriel laughed, Jack nudging his shoulder, and shrugged. “They must like you.”

“Seriously?”

“I'm not the boss here.” Gabriel replied, patting at Jack's arm. “They just, you know, half-ass keeping my body together.” He motioned to his face, grinning and puffing out his cheek as one of the holes emptied of smoke—sending it towards Jack. The other man swatted at him, blowing air at him.

The nature of what Gabriel's body was now was still an adjustment, to be sure, but it wasn't nearly as terrible as he seemed to think it would be. Jack tended to vouch that they were both defective old men now and there was no sense in worrying about aesthetics anyway.

“So, everything ready for tonight?” Jack asked.

Gabriel nodded. He shifted his weight, body sagging toward his good leg, and grabbed a handful of Jack's shirt. “Are you?” he asked, tugging at the fabric.

“Ready for a boring night sitting in front of a locked door while you and Sombra have all the fun? Yeah, sounds nice to me.” Jack grinned back at him. “I might snag a nap if it's quiet enough.”

“Lazy old man.”

Jack laughed. “Yeah yeah, says the one who falls asleep at 8pm.” Gabriel made a face at him.

“That was one time and it was a long day, alright?”

“Sure, sure.” Jack chuckled before adding, “You think we'll be done in time for me to catch a hockey game or..?”

Gabriel laughed and shook his head. “You really are Jack Morrison.” he said before leaning in for a kiss. Jack met him, eager for any physical interaction Gabe was comfortable with. When they parted, Gabe shoved gently at his chest. “Get your shit, Jackie. We gotta move.”

“Yes sir.”

The disgusted look Gabriel shot him in reply was worth the ensuing rougher, but still fond, shove he got for it.  


* * *

  
Ten minutes into the mission, Jack half-napping with his back pressed against the door, Sombra buzzed in his ear with a frantic request. _Something something, back up security, then gunfire._ He slipped through the door and made it down the next two corridors she directed him though at a speed he didn't even know he could achieve anymore.

It wasn't that he had a problem with being involved—he wouldn't have come if he had. It was more about the fact that his involvement caused more problems than it fixed for Sombra and Gabriel. The immediate problem, a few straggling guards that had gotten the drop on Sombra when Gabe was out og reach, were a weak trade-off for all the cameras Sombra had to hack now to be sure Jack-fucking-Morrison wasn't seen cooperating with Talon.

Still, she called. So he answered, sliding over a barricade and taking out two of the guards before she even realized he'd gotten there.

“Ah! White bread, glad you could join me!”

Jack glanced over at her, pressed against the wall on the other side of the doorway, and raised a brow. “Made some friends?” he asked.

Sombra pulled a face. “You could say that.” she hummed, shifting to type something into a panel on the wall next to her. “Gabriel's on the way but there's some doors I haven't hacked yet on the route and you were closer.” She paused to glance at him. “Sorry.”

“Eh,” Jack said, flinching slightly as a bullet skipped off the door frame next to his head, “I could use a little excitement.”

Sombra laughed. “Gabi's full of it, huh?” she said, back to typing at her terminal while Jack snuck a peek at their assailants (4 more guards left, so-far no reinforcements).

An understatement, really. Apparently things had just gotten worse in their years apart too, judging from the security Sombra was having to go through just for doors. Speaking of, she gave a little 'hmm!' of triumph when he straightened back up behind the door and patted roughly at the terminal.

“What's your ETA, big guy?” she asked into her comm. Jack could hear Gabriel's gruff reply but couldn't make out any words so her chuckle in reply was the only indication he had that it was at all positive.

The guards went quiet for a moment and Jack moved, ready to return fire in the calm, but Sombra motioned for him to stop. So he waited, struggling to hear the men speaking in the other room. Struggling, that is, until gunfire lit up the room only to be quickly silenced. Sombra shifted her weight in her crouch, waiting, then called out.

“¡Hola, Gabi!”

“I told you not to attract attention.”

Jack exhaled in relief, smile breaking across his face at the long-suffering frustration in Gabriel's voice, and got to his feet as Sombra hopped up and through the doorway.

“I missed white bread.” she said, waving a hand in the air at him as she stepped closer. “You get what we needed, yeah?”

Gabriel palmed something off to her casually and shrugged. “Hopefully.” he said, turning his attention to Jack. “Good reaction time, Jack.”

“It's good to know I'm still faster than you.” Jack replied, smirking when he saw Gabriel's eyes narrow behind his mask. _Oh, glorious bragging rights._

Gabriel scoffed and moved past Sombra, judging Jack's shoulder as he stepped into the other room. “C'mon, Speedy.” he drawled, “You still want to catch that hockey game? Or would you both rather we hang around until more guards show up?”

That was enough to get both of them moving, at least.  


* * *

  
They left Sombra to review the information after she promised to alter them the second she found anything important. Still missed the hockey game, sadly, but Jack wasn't about to complain over a fairly successful outing.

Instead, he made himself comfortable on a different shitty safe-house couch and watched Gabriel pry off layers of leather and Kevlar body armor. While his own usual get up didn't allow him nearly the protection Gabe's did it was nice not to have a production just to get into sweats...

“How does that shit even work?” he asked, raising a brow as Gabe tossed his gloves on the coffee table. “You know, how it dissolves with you?”

Gabriel made an arching motion with his hands, fingers wiggling, and said, “Magic.” Jack frowned at him and he laughed. “Look, all I know is that it works. Sombra knows more about the robot shit than I do, pick her brain.”

Jack gave a little 'hmm' and let it drop. Instead, he propped his feet on the table and watched Gabriel in silence as he removed his mask and tossed it down with the gloves.

“You staying?” Gabriel asked as he pulled his arms awkwardly out of his coat. Jack nodded when he looked up. “Good,” he hummed, “I need a heating blanket tonight.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Enjoy it while you can,” he teased, “we need to start that whole cat and mouse act again soon—before someone starts sniffing where they don't belong.”

Gabe shrugged, moving to sit next to him and pry off his boots now. “Darn.” he said, humming faintly. “I was enjoying our poker nights too.” Jack laughed.

“Didn't say those had to stop.”

“That's just because Sombra still owes you 20 bucks. But you gotta trust me when I say you are _not_ getting it, Jackie.”

Boots off, Gabriel slumped against Jack's side bonelessly. When Jack glanced over he was met with a faux pathetic face staring up at him.

“Need some help?” he asked, “That is a lot of buckles.”

“If you'd be a dear.” Gabriel said, expression quickly smoothing over into a grin that proved infectious as Jack slid off the couch to face him.

“For you, Gabe? _Anything._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Psst, I finally used a song from the band that this is fucking named for. Go me, final chapter.
> 
> To say I'm not tempted to do more with this is a bit of a fib but this is the end of the material I had planned so we're going to call it a night now. Thank you everyone for the support. ;o; It means a lot and I hope everyone enjoys the ending. I'm toying with doing a few different r76 things (series and one-shots; I'm the goddamn master of only ever doing one-shots tho) in the near future so if you enjoyed this do stick around, I'd love to share the rest of my ideas. <3


End file.
